Our lives play out like jagged patterns and broken pieces of fragile glass.  At times we are able to push some of the patterns together and glue a few of the broken pieces into the patterns so that it all makes sense – at least for the moment.  We continue.  We struggle.  We want.  We are.  And then one day we are not.  Those left behind are the ones that make us immortal, holding us in their memories and treasuring the times we spent together.

A dear friend of mine suffered an extreme loss today.  I know her reflections are torn and scattered at this moment and the broken glass is filled with sharp shards of pain.  Soon immortality will began to build a monument with all the great times shared, tendered with the sadness.  Once again, we are!